


Sweet Quarantine

by Imjohnlocked87



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Cake, Chocolate, Coronavirus, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Food Sex, Humor, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Quarantine, Sex and Chocolate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:09:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23272258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imjohnlocked87/pseuds/Imjohnlocked87
Summary: Sherlock and John have been in quarantine for eight days. The detective has run out of cases and, to cheer him up, John decides to make a three-chocolate cake, showing Sherlock how pleasurable quarantine can be.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 22
Kudos: 87
Collections: Isolated Johnlock Collection





	Sweet Quarantine

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Приятный карантин (Sweet Quarantine)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23857252) by [Lesli_rus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesli_rus/pseuds/Lesli_rus)



> Thanks so much, Lesli_rus, for your time and effort!

"Come on, Sherlock, help me out," John asked, pulling the sheets out of the closet.

The detective didn't answer. He'd been pouting on the couch all day. It was the eighth day of the quarantine, he had no more samples to test, and Lestrade just told him he had no more cases he could solve from home.

So, after hiding their guns and other weapons, John decided to clean up the flat, first because it was necessary to minimize their chances of contagion amid the pandemic and, in addition, in the vain hope of moving the detective from the couch.

Sherlock was lying on it as usual when pouting, facing the back, ostensibly showing his back to John.

They had been locked up in Baker Street for eight days. The last criminal they arrested was admitted to the hospital with coronavirus, and everyone who had been in contact with him, yarders, paramedics, Sherlock, and John, were now in quarantine.

Keeping Sherlock in the flat hadn't been easy. From the threat to the puppy-dog eyes, Sherlock had used every trick in the book to get John to let him out of Baker Street, so John was forced to lock the main door and put a security lock on the windows that he only removed when he wanted to air out the house or go outside to applaud pandemic's heroes.

Thank God, Lestrade stirred up heaven and earth looking for cases, old or new, whose files he left at the door of the flat. John, wearing a mask and gloves, picked it up and kept in locked in his old bedroom until the preventive period of twenty-four hours for the virus to disappear from the paper passed, at which time Sherlock threw himself at them like a hungry wolf. 

Mrs. Hudson was much more disciplined. As she had contact with John and Sherlock, she was also in preventive quarantine, so she either got out to the street. Whenever she needed something, she left the shopping list under the door and one of Mycroft's minions, on his way back from the grocery store, knocked on her door a couple of times and left the bags on the floor, the same they did on 221B for the detective and the doctor.

John and Sherlock talked to her through the door several times a day and face to face every day at eight o'clock in the evening, when they all went to the balconies and applaud health professionals, security forces, delivery people, shopkeepers and all those who managed to keep the city running in the midst of such chaos. 

"Shall we play chess?" John suggested. At least they would spend some time picking up the pieces when Sherlock got angry and, in one fell swoop, rolled them on the floor.

Total silence, unless John considered an act of communication Sherlock moving a few millimeters to turn his back on him more ostensibly.

"Shall we play Cluedo?"

Sherlock moved his head slowly. John knew that he had an almost Paulovlian reflex with that game, but on that occasion, it didn't work either. The detective barricaded himself back on the couch.

"Sherlock, you can't spend the whole quarantine on the couch."

"Look at me." the detective sneered. 

John didn't take it badly. He knew Sherlock didn't blame him directly, but he couldn't find any other way to deal with the frustration and anguish of not being able to get out of the flat. If it was hard for everyone, for someone as mentally powerful and hyperactive as Sherlock, it was almost unbearable, even though he understood and accepted the reasons to be quarantined.

John was worried about him. He had to get Sherlock out of that state as soon as possible, or the detective's mood would plummet. As a soldier, he knew it was time to pull out the heavy artillery.

"We could make a cake.”

Sherlock remained silent, but John knew he'd got his attention.

"We could make it out of chocolate. I'll let you lick the spoon."

Sherlock turned his head without moving the trunk, looking over the sofa.

"Three chocolates?"

"Three chocolates.”

"All right," Sherlock sighed.

Resigned, he shuffled into the kitchen as John pulled out the pans to heat the various chocolates. The detective sat in the corner of the table, to John's right, watching as he broke the milk chocolate into ounces and poured it into one of the pans, to do the same with the dark chocolate and the chocolate with truffle. Soon, a sweet smell invaded the kitchen, and John smiled as he watched Sherlock sniffing with delight.

The doctor dipped his hand in the flour and spread it on the table, from left to right, sprinkling the detective in his wake.

"John!' protested Sherlock as John laughed, amused to contemplate his whitened curly hair and the flour on his blue dressing gown.

The doctor gazed at him for a moment.

"Sherlock, according to the first article of the regulation of Michelin star chef association, you cannot cook with stained clothing."

The detective snorted a laugh. For a moment, he thought John was indeed reciting some rulebook. He took off his robe.

"The shirt, too."

"It's not stained."

"Yes, it is," replied John mockingly, planting a pair of floured fingers on the detective's blue shirt.

"Well, you're right, it is stained, just like yours," observed Sherlock, taking some flour from the table and imitating what John had just done. John took his shirt off. He turned and stirred the milk chocolate pot with the wooden spoon, which had not yet completely melted.

"Do you want to check the texture?" he asked, taking a spoonful of chocolate in his mouth.

Sherlock approached and ran the tip of his tongue over John's lips, savoring the chocolate, then kissing him eagerly, chocolate slipping down both of their chins as they ran their tongues over each other's mouths. They parted between giggles and Sherlock began to lick the chocolate off John's chin, while wiping his own with his hand, and then put it on John's jeans, filling them with chocolate.

"You know the rules."

He knelt in front of John, unbuttoned his trousers, and drew the doctor's cock with his tongue through the fabric of his pants, making it throb under his rubbing, while John emitted soft moans.

The doctor grabbed Sherlock by the hair and pulled him to his feet.

"Now, we have to prepare the dough."

He put flour, butter, and sugar in a bowl and put it all together and then put the dough on the floured table.

"Would you like to do the honors?"

"How should I do it?"

John told the detective to get in front of the table, and he got behind him, glued to the detective's body so he could feel John's hard cock against his ass. The doctor took Sherlock's hands, put them on the dough, and showed him how he had to stretch it, then pick it up to extend it again.

"Wait, wait, you've got a stain on your trousers too," observed John, grabbing Sherlock's ass with both hands and then unbuttoning them and dropping them down. The detective kicked it away, just as John kicked his owns.

Sherlock purred softly as John glued his body more closely to his, while his hands ran down Sherlock's arms, from his hands to his shoulders, sending a shiver of pleasure down his back. John picked up another bit of chocolate and smeared it on Sherlock's neck, then kissed and licked it, while his chocolate-smeared hands surrounded the detective's nipples.

"You have to knead forward and backward," explained John, running his mouth around the detective's neck, pulling moans from the detective's lips.

“Like this," John began to push his hips forward and backward, rubbing his cock against the detective's ass, gently pricking his nipples and nibbling on his neck, while the detective motioned back and forth, working the dough.

"ohhhhhhh, yessssssssss, mmmmmmm."

Sherlock stopped kneading to caress John, but the doctor put his hands back on the dough, thrusting his hips back and forth.

"You can't stop. Otherwise, the dough will be spoiled."

Sherlock turned his head, never ceasing to knead, and the two kissed in between gasps, as John's hands ran across Sherlock's toned abdomen to reach his groin, causing the detective to tilt his head backward between pantings and moans.

"Do I have to go on much longer?" the detective gasped. 

"Don't stop until I tell you," ordered John, putting his hands on the waistband of Sherlock's underpants and dropping them to the ground, releasing his hard cock.

"Who knew you'd be so keen on making cakes" teased John, taking some melted chocolate with butter, already at room temperature, and spreading it over the detective's cock, from the tip to the balls.

"yesss, mmmmmmm."

John picked up some of the detective's precum mixed with chocolate with one finger and put it in his mouth, which Sherlock avidly sucked, propelled back and forth by John's increasingly energetic thrusts. At the same time, with the other hand, the doctor continued to stroke Sherlock, the texture of the chocolate adding extra friction to his caresses, which was driving Sherlock crazy, especially as John ran his thumb over the tip of his cock, gently sliding it over it.

John stopped, eliciting a frustrated grunt from the detective.

"Didn't you want to lick the spoon?"

Sherlock smirked and turned around. He pulled John's underpants down, making his impressive, thick cock jump free, hard as a rock. The detective grabbed it with his right hand and put his left hand in the dark chocolate pot. He then left his hand on John's cock, letting a river of dense chocolate drops fall on the tip of it. The doctor grunted with pleasure, under the combination of chocolate warmness and the tingling of the drops running down his cock, from the tip, through the frenulum, all the way down the shaft to his balls.

Sherlock bent down and emitted a guttural roar of pleasure as he put John's cock in his mouth, the smell of John mixed with the chocolate driving him crazy. He ran his mouth around the cock almost to the base and back again, put another bit of chocolate on it, his tongue surrounded the frenulum, making John grunt and groan with pleasure, his hands on the detective's head. John grabbed him by the hair as he slowly fucked his mouth, the vibration of Sherlock's muffled moans rumbling through his cock to his brain, while the detective bowed his head, hollowing his cheeks, playing with his tongue over the tip of John's cock.

Sherlock managed to get rid of John's hands and, stroking him with his hand, he licked his balls and then put one in his mouth.

John pulled him back, away from the detective.

"Wait... wait... wait... stop, or I'll come before I fuck you. To the table. On all fours".

Sherlock stood up and climbed nimbly onto the table. He waited obediently while John gasped for a few seconds, trying to regain control, holding on to the base of his cock so he wouldn't come.

John took one of the plump cheeks in either hand and spread Sherlock open. He dropped a sharp thread of chocolate on the crack of his ass, making the detective squirm on the table, as the chocolate smeared his asshole entrance, his balls and his cock, and began to drip on the wood.

John ran his tongue around Sherlock's puckered hole, while the detective squirmed and moaned, feeling the doctor's tongue going up and down the crack, and then going around the hole again, from time to time sticking the tip of his tongue in it, making Sherlock scream with pleasure, his thighs shaking, leaning on his elbows, throwing his head back.

"John, fuck me... , please, fuck me..."

John took advantage of this moment to sink his tongue into Sherlock's hole and fuck him with it while he rubbed Sherlock's perineum with his hand, massaging his prostate from the outside.

"ohmmmmm John, john. Mmmmmmm I'm going to mmmmmmmm"

John made Sherlock turn around so that he was lying on his back. He spread his legs wide, put them on the detective’s chest, and smeared a finger with olive oil. Slow and gently, he slid the tip of his finger into Sherlock's ass, as the detective moaned loud, moaning that grew louder when John took his cock in his mouth. At the same path, he shoved his finger deep inside Sherlock, he ran his mouth over sherlock’s cock, until the curled hairs tickled his nose, to make the opposite motion, pulling his finger out of Sherlock's ass and running his lips of Sherlock’s cock to the tip. 

"John……. John, no mmmmmmmmmmmm” gasped the detective, as John penetrated Sherlock's ass again, this time with two fingers, and yet, he put his cock in his mouth all the way in, while with the other hand he held Sherlock's hips to prevent him from bucking uncontrollably.

Sherlock, hands tightly held to the edges of the table, eyes closed, moaned and whined, noticing how the orgasm grew in his abdomen, clenching his teeth trying to control it although, as he well knew, with his cock and ass in John's hands and mouth, it was a losing battle.

John took his fingers out again and ran his tongue over Sherlock's cock to the tip to put a third finger in. While vibrating one of his fingers over Sherlock's prostate, John put his mouth around the tip of his cock and sucked hard. His tongue went through the slit until, with a chocked loud moan, Sherlock came hard into John's mouth, who kept sucking, sipping and fingering the detective until he twisted with grunts.

John put Sherlock's leg over his shoulder and his cock at the entrance of a panting Sherlock's, who was still recovering from his orgasm, making him moan and squirm again, feeling John’s huge cock stretching him open.

John moaned and grunted, his eyes closed, losing himself in the warmness and tightness of Sherlock arse, gently stretching his cock.

“Oh Sherlock……… god……… this is……….fuck……….. heaven"

John bent down and kissed Sherlock tightly., taking his cock slowly from Sherlock and inching it inside again, as Sherlock moaned in Johns's lips, his cock getting hard again with the slow fucking.

Suddenly the doctor started slamming into the detective at a brutal pace, making Sherlock howl out with pleasure every time John’s cock hit .his prostate, the doctor thrusting even harder, hitting Sherlock prostate again and again. The detective’s howls reached new levels when John started stroking his cock, grabbing it firmly, at the same pace as his trusts, making Sherlock’s eyes roll back, his mouth open, losing in the drowning pleasure of John’s tireless and relentless cock,

Sherlock's face contorted in pleasure again, John thrusting harder and deeper, and Sherlock screamed while coming for the second time, his cum hitting John’s torso.

John trusting became erratic and finally, with a howl, came inside Sherlock, the detective squirming and wriggling feeling John’s hot cum inside until the doctor fell on Sherlock'’s body, both panting heavily.

“Never thought to make cakes could feel so fucking great!” gasped Sherlock

John chuckled.

“ Next time, we'll make cupcakes.”

Sherlock giggled, then looked into John’s eyes.

“Thanks, John, I couldn't have anyone better than you to spend quarantine with.”

“Neither do I.”

"Liar."

Smiling, they kissed softly and fell asleep on the kitchen table, with the soft smell of chocolate intoxicating their senses.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this brings some joy on these days!  
> Keep safe. Stay home.


End file.
